


Pretty Things

by Liralen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liralen/pseuds/Liralen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis knows Liam's a boy. He still likes to see him in pretty things. Crossdressing kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazy_daze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_daze/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Прелестные штучки](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1372315) by [AvaDay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaDay/pseuds/AvaDay)



> I pestered lazy_daze for a prompt, and she said, "Lilo, crossdressing ... Louis coaxing Liam into putting pretty frilly things on his lovely lanky boyish body and Liam getting all twisted up and embarrassed about how hot he finds it." And so that's what I wrote.
> 
> (Reference picture: [here](http://www.herroom.com/chantelle-3414-saint-germain-shorty-panty.shtml))
> 
> Not beta-ed or Britpicked, with apologies for any and all errors.

"Don't you want to look pretty for me?" Louis purrs into his ear.

 And that – that right there is such a _Louis_ thing to say, such an unbelievable, impossible thing. It makes Liam want to laugh, and shout, and cry, and possibly take Louis's clothes off with his _teeth_. Instead, he just butts his head up under Louis's arm, pressing his face hard into Louis's chest so he can't see the hot pink color suffusing Liam's cheeks.

 "I don't want to look pretty for anyone," Liam mumbles, ears flushing hotter with every word. "I don't want to look pretty at all. I'm a _boy_."

 "Do you think," Louis asks, his voice gentle, and dangerous, his light touch skimming down Liam's side, "that I've forgotten you're a boy, darling?"

 Liam opens his mouth to argue, he's pretty sure of it, only at that moment Louis's hand darts between his thighs, palming his cock, and whatever he meant to say is scratched away with a high, startled moan.

 " _Jesus_ ," Liam gasps, twisting and pressing his face harder into Louis's shoulder to try and keep the sounds back. "I don't understand."

 "I know," Louis says. He presses the heel of his hand against Liam's groin in a slow, hard drag, pulling out another breathy sound. "Do it for me anyway? Please?"

 And, like. That's not playing fair, using that tone, and asking _please_ , all sweet like that. Louis's never sweet asking for anything, never says please and thank you. He's a rude, obnoxious, ridiculous boy, and Liam has no idea why he loves him.

 But he does.

 "Okay," he gives in, gritting it out between his teeth as Louis's hand tightens almost painfully over his cock before gentling again. "Okay, okay, but you can't – you've got to keep your eyes closed 'til I'm ready. And you can't laugh."

 "No laughing," Louis agrees. He takes his hands away, and Liam almost whines; but then Louis's pushing something into his hand, something soft and silky and lacy and, god, no, _not thinking about it_ , and Liam's stumbling on shaky legs to the relative safety of the bathroom.

 He clicks the door shut behind him and takes a deep breath before facing himself in the mirror. His blush is just as bad as he suspected, burning high in his cheeks and spreading down nearly to his chest. His cock is blatantly hard in his briefs ( _just from Louis's hand, just because Louis was touching him, no other reason_ ) and he tears his gaze away as he shucks them quickly, kicking them off so that he's completely naked.

 He tries really hard not to even look at the thin scrap of cloth in his hand as he puts it on, but then he gets it twisted up, tries to put his leg through the wrong hole and almost falls over in what he's pretty sure is the least sexy move _ever_ , and he has to get it untangled, can't avoid this any longer.

 The knickers are not, to his surprise and great relief, pink, or even red, or black. They're dark blue, what there is to them. They're dripping in lace, nearly sheer except for the bit that actually covers the crotch, which is small and disconcertingly flat. It's not a _thong_ at least, for which Liam feels incredibly grateful, until he gets them the right way round and pulls them up to discover that they barely cover half of his ass. The panel in the front stretches obscenely over the hard line of his cock, and there's nowhere – there's no goddamn _room_ , he can only tuck it below the waistband and let it press out against his hip. It looks bloody ridiculous, not sexy at all, and it doesn't make him harder, doesn't make a little slick pool up to dampen the silk, it _doesn't_.

 "Get it together, Payne," he says sternly to the mirror. His image looks shaky and unconvinced.

 "You promised you wouldn't laugh," he warns as he pushes open the bathroom door. Louis, as he swore, has his eyes closed, and Liam pads softly closer until he's only a foot or two from the bed. He puts his hands on his hips; thinks that might be a bit too much, and crosses them over his chest; then finally just drops them to his sides and sighs. "Alright. You can open them."

 Liam clenches his jaw tightly and waits for the inevitable as Louis looks him over, but the laughter never comes. After several tense, quiet moments, he finally gathers the nerve to flick his gaze down to Louis's face, and he feels his breath catch. Louis is just… staring. His eyes are dark, and lidded, and hungry, roving up and down Liam's body and catching on the knickers with every pass. Liam can almost feel that gaze like a physical touch, the warmth and the weight of it, all concentrated on the thin lace stretched across his crotch.

 His cock jerks hard where it's pressing out the fabric and Louis's mouth opens on a choked groan.

 "Jesus Christ, _Li_ , you look so fucking pretty. You don't even know, god, I want to – so pretty – Li, let me, let me–"

 "Yeah," Liam gasps, although he's got no idea what Louis's asking. _Anything_. "Yeah, please, Lou–"

 Louis doesn't wait for him to finish before he's leaning forward, hands coming up to catch on the spurs on Liam's hips as he opens his mouth over his dick. It shocks a gasp out of Liam, the warm press of Louis's mouth. The roll of his tongue, gentle at first, and then harder, like he can't help himself, mouthing and licking over the swirling patterns until the fabric is damp and clinging. The silk lining at the front is soft and smooth, but the lace is scratchy over the head of his cock, and it hurts, rubbing with the force of Louis's searching tongue, hurts in a way he almost can't bear and doesn't want to stop.

 "Louis, oh hell, you really – uh! really like this," he says, a little stunned.

 "You have no," Louis pants, "no, no idea," slipping his fingertips under the frilly edge to press into the meat of Liam's arse and sucking hard.

 His teeth scrape through the silk, riding the edge of pleasure, and Liam's stomach clenches as he comes without warning, almost buckling his legs. He flails, staggering and clutching at Louis's shoulders for support, and for some insane reason he's laughing, high in his chest with almost no air because he's still shivering through the aftershocks.

 "Beautiful, insane boy," Louis murmurs, dragging him down for a brutal kiss. Liam lets Louis manhandle him onto his back on the bed, lets him push between his thighs and rut against him until he comes all over the knickers, 'til they're stained inside and out, sticky and sopping. He feels drunk, worn-out and pliant, drifting as Louis's breathing calms, as his kisses turn gentle. He tips his chin up, letting little contented sounds slip out as Louis scatters kisses across his jaw, down his throat. There's a soft, lingering kiss pressed to his chest before Louis's head drops down to rest there. Without even having to think about it Liam brings his arms up to wrap around him, one hand sliding into the thick, soft hair at the back of Louis's head.

 "See?" Louis says after a few minutes of contented silence. "I only ever have the best ideas."

 "You owe me something," Liam says. "Something big. This lace is itchy, you bloody pervert."

 " _Your_ bloody pervert," Louis corrects.

 "We're not having a sweet moment over this."

 "I think we are."

 "I've got lace cemented to my pubic hair. It's not sweet, it's disgusting."

 Louis pushes himself up to his elbows to leer at Liam. "Help you shower it off, sweetheart?" he offers.

 Liam groans and puts a hand in Louis's face, pushing him away.

 "You're a pervert and a menace to society and I should not indulge you."

 Louis only smiles. "Don't worry, love. Next time I promise I'll get all pretty for you."


End file.
